If You Want Blood You've Got It
by Iliraen
Summary: Follows Brad around mainly. Starts off with a mission to invade a town that could have huge resistance. Therefore, all sections are called in together. Brad/OC. M due to language...for now.


*Short chapter, I know. Just sort of testing the waters, if you will*

Chapter 1: Shoot to Trill

"Fuck man! We've been on the fucking road for three fucking days! When the fuck am I going to get some fucking sleep?"

Ray Pearson was once again on his usual rant about anything he could think of.

"I mean, FUCK. How the fuck are we suppose to kill fucking Iraqis if I can't even fucking keep my eyes open?"

"Just try to keep your eyes on the road." Brad said, while staring out the window; the only thing he could do to past the time as they drove and drove across the country that they were supposedly taking over.

"Fuck you, Brad." Ray replied, but he shut up.

The Humvee was quiet again with just the humming of the engine to keep the Marines company. Brad continued to stare out the window, bored bored bored. The only thing is this fucking country was desert land. Fuck.

"Hey," Trombley began and Brad closed his eyes. _Please don't get Pearson started again_, he thought to himself, but Trombley kept talking. "Does anyone remember what our mission even is?"

"Fuck no!" Pearson cried out. "They fucking change the mission every five fucking seconds. I'd be surprised if the fucking Godfather even knew what the fuck was going on."

Trombley seemed to think for a moment; he was visibly regretting bringing up a topic, knowing now that Ray was off on a tangent again. "Ah." He finally said hoping it would be the end of the conversation.

He was wrong.

"I mean, Jesus Christ! When are we going to get some fucking rest?" Ray yelled out again, banging his hand against the wheel.

Brad turned around to look at Trombley and when they met eyes, he shook his head at him. Trombley gave him a sheepish grin in response.

"You know how long it's been since I've seen a fucking woman? Fuck! Why can't they hire some fucking whores for us or something? Jesus fucking Christ." Ray said but before he could continue the radio crackled.

Almost immediately, the car was silent. Everyone in the car seemed to hold their breath as they waited for Brad to figure out what was going on. The reporter took out his notepad and was poised to start writing.

After several seconds, Brad grinned at them. "We're going to be backing up another troop. They're being held up twelve miles south. About to enter a town and they need back up."

"Fuck yeah!! That's what I'm fucking talking about!" Ray said. "Trombley, Trombley, are you fucking ready to kill some fucking Iraqis?"

Trombley laughed. "Fuck yeah I am!"

"That's what I'm talking about! Are you fucking getting this, reporter? The Marines are actually fucking doing something!"

The Humvee that was five seconds ago ready to fall off the face of the planet from sleepiness seemed to have taken five expresso shots. Everyone was wide awake and talking about how they were going to get Trombley to finally fuck someone over.

When the camp came into sight, Ray let out a loud yelp of excitement. He pulled up, following the other vehicles and jumped out. "Let's get fucking going!" he cried out as the rest of the Marines were unloading.

"Hold up, hold up." Their superior waved his hand to calm them down. "Listen! We're waiting, not tonight. Tomorrow night. That's when we're executing. So calm your fucking asses down and get some sleep. You're going to need it."

Just as Ray Pearson opened his mouth to complain (possibly the only thing he was good at), more trucks pulled up to the camp, and at least five dozen more Marines started unloading.

Ray seemed to glow from happiness. "You know how fucking big this is going to be? Fuck. Trombley, you better be fucking ready tomorrow."

"Hey!" A booming loud voice seemed to penetrate the surroundings.

A huge, muscular man was walking towards them with hate in his eyes. "Ya'll better fucking listen up, because I ain't taking any shit."

"I am Major General Jesse Roberts and I am in control of the main encampment here, and I know all of you. I know every single one of you fuckers." Roberts glared at each of then incoming Marines and paced back and forth. Brad had never been scared of another man, as he himself was muscular and stood at a tall 6' 5", but this man meant business.

"Now. I know all you horny bastards are going to think this is a fucking field trip. It's fucking not. And if I hear any, ANY fucking complaints from my section of Marines about your horny asses getting even close to them, I will fucking kill you myself. Is that clear?" He yelled out.

Ray, never the one to be quiet, grinned at Brad. "He just has to worry about Rudy, man. None of us are fucking gay." Ray laughed and nudged Rudy in the ribs.

The Major General stopped pacing and turned around to face Ray, who instantly fell silent. "We have some female Marines here." He said coldly to Ray before turning back around.

Ray's mouth fell open, and he turned to Brad, wiggling his eyebrows and making crude hand motions.

All of a sudden, MG Roberts laughed. "Of course, I'll leave it to you guys to figure out which ones are straight and single. Good fucking luck with that."


End file.
